


Electrical Storm

by mickeysbubblebutt (brazenlyunabashedlyshamelessly)



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Future Fic, Happy Sexy Times, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-22
Updated: 2015-09-22
Packaged: 2018-04-22 21:58:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4851989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brazenlyunabashedlyshamelessly/pseuds/mickeysbubblebutt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's humid, and Mickey and Ian are grumpy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Electrical Storm

The humidity was going to kill them. Mickey was convinced of it. The clouds were hanging low over the South Side, looking ready to burst… but instead there was nothing.

Only this unceasing heat.

Lying beside Mickey on the bed was Ian. They were both edgy; they stuck to each other whenever they touched. Mickey didn’t mind it so much, but the sensation made Ian irritable. So now, they lay side by side, neither of them saying much.

“This fan sucks,” Ian muttered sullenly.

It was true. The ceiling fan wasn’t doing much but swirling the humid air around. And normally he’d agree, but he wasn’t in the mood for Ian’s bitching right now.

“You got a point?” Mickey asked testily.

“Uh, I dunno. How ‘bout you fix the damn thing?”

“Not the only fuckin’ person who lives here,” Mickey snapped.

After that, they both fell into a huffy silence. Ian shifted around on the bed, fidgeting as the sheets stuck to his skin.

Mickey scowled.

“Lie still,” he eventually ordered after Ian’s restless movements continued.

“Fuck off.” Still, Ian did as he was told. For about two seconds. "I’m gonna shower,” he muttered at last.

Swinging his long legs over the edge of the bed, Ian was already pulling off his tank as he headed towards the bathroom. His pale skin gleamed with sweat.

_Shit._

Things between Mickey and Ian had been tense for the last couple of weeks, and the weather just seemed to be some kind of metaphor for the way things were between them lately. They were sniping at each other, tempers frayed from the stress of trying to hold down their respective jobs while juggling their families and their relationship.

They hadn’t had sex in at least two weeks.

_He just wished it would rain._

Mickey was still glaring up at the ceiling when Ian came out of the bathroom. The redhead hadn’t bothered to pull on his boxers, had likely abandoned his towel on the bathroom floor. And while that normally drove Mickey crazy, he found he didn’t care too much about that right now.

Instead, his gaze was fixed on Ian’s still damp skin. Helplessly, he ran his eyes down from Ian’s broad shoulders, down his back to linger on his ass. The sight made him restless, a different kind of heat beginning to flush his skin.

“You’re starin’,” Ian commented.

Taking a moment to answer, Mickey leisurely continued checking Ian out, all the way down to his legs.

“Yeah,” he replied. “You got a problem with that?”

Slowly, Ian turned around; he was hard. Mickey drew in a sharp breath at the sight, and all the earlier tension was rerouted into something entirely different. Leaning his elbows on the dresser behind him, Ian made no move to come to bed, was instead watching Mickey intently.

There was something challenging in Ian’s expression, and it turned Mickey on. Getting off the bed, he moved toward Ian until they were standing only a few inches apart. Mickey had to tilt his head back a little to meet Ian’s stare.

“What you waitin’ for, tough guy?” Ian taunted.

It was the smirk on Ian’s face that did it. Mickey raised up on his tiptoes, threading his fingers through Ian’s hair, and covered Ian’s mouth with his. A low sound escaped Ian’s throat; his hands settled onto Mickey’s hips, fingers digging into his skin through the material of his boxers.

That little bite of pain just made Mickey harder. He allowed his own hands to roam, sliding from Ian’s hair to run down his shoulders. Mickey wanted to go slow, to savour it, but he couldn’t bite back his impatience.

Feeling the way Ian’s muscles bunched under his touch, Mickey allowed one hand to drop straight down to Ian’s cock, while the other lingered at his chest. Lightly running the tips of his fingers along Ian’s length, Mickey used his other hand to tweak Ian’s nipples sharply.

“ _Fuck_ , Mick,” Ian gasped against his mouth.

“You like that?”

Ian’s grip on Mickey tightened in answer, so he did it again. He felt his own smug grin tugging the corners of his lips at being able to make Ian respond like this. Pulling back from the kiss, Mickey kept his gaze fixed on Ian’s expression as he took hold of Ian’s cock in a firm grip.

He’d had enough of the teasing touches, was now rubbing his thumb over the head, spreading precum over Ian’s tip, and making him buck into Mickey’s grip. Mickey then used the wetness to lubricate his strokes.

“H-harder,” Ian bit out. “Need it harder.”

“Been too long,” Mickey muttered under his breath. Doing as he was told, Mickey tightened his grip, torn between watching his hands on Ian’s skin, and watching Ian’s face as Mickey jerked him off. Then there was the way sweat was beading along Ian’s collarbones; Mickey licked his lips reflexively.

In the end, though, it didn’t matter. Taking Mickey’s wrist in a hard grip to halt his touch, Ian started backing him towards the bed. Mickey felt the back of his knees bump into the mattress.

“Clothes,” Ian rasped. “Take ‘em off.”

Hands made clumsy by want, Mickey pulled his shirt over his head as Ian got down onto his knees to pull Mickey’s boxers down his hips.

The only warning Mickey had was Ian’s hot breath against his skin before Ian was taking him into his mouth. A long groan escaped him as he felt Ian’s tongue flicking across the head of his cock.

“ _Christ._ ”

Reaching down to hold onto Ian’s shoulders as his legs grew weak, Mickey watched as his cock disappeared between Ian’s lips. Warm, wet, surrounding him as Ian suckled.

_He didn’t know how much more of this he could take_.

Ian allowed his teeth to scrape the underside of Mickey’s cock head, and the sensation made Mickey’s head drop back. He stared up at the useless fan while the things Ian was doing with his mouth and hands steadily made Mickey’s temperature rise. Sweat slicked skin made it hard for Mickey to hold onto Ian, making him tighten his grip.

“Enough,” Mickey gasped finally. He tugged on Ian’s hair, pulling him back enough that he could lean over and bring their mouths together. Mickey could taste himself on Ian’s lips.

With a groan, Mickey sank down onto the floor with Ian. Their limbs slid together, and it felt so good.

There was a distant sound in the background, but neither of them paid attention.

All they saw, felt, heard, and tasted was each other.

It took some maneuvering, and Mickey banged his elbow against the foot of the bed, but he didn’t care. Ian rolled so that he was on top of Mickey, positioned between his legs.

Shamelessly, Mickey spread his thighs, wanting Ian to fuck him.

But for some stupid fucking reason, Ian had hesitated.

“You waitin’ for a goddamn invitation?” Mickey gritted out.

Ian pulled a face. And then uttered the last words Mickey wanted to hear.

“We’re outta lube.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.”

Banging his head on the floor, Mickey found himself scowling back up at the ceiling again.

_Fuck that._

Undeterred, Mickey wrapped his legs around Ian’s hips, and threaded his fingers into Ian’s hair. Drawing Ian’s head down, Mickey lifted himself up a little bit to take his lips in a kiss. It was slower than before, almost lazy. Ian licked along Mickey’s bottom lip, and the sensation made him shiver.

Slowly, Ian began to rock against him. Their cocks dragged together, and it was all Mickey could do not to moan. He squeezed his thighs tighter around Ian’s waist.

Lightning flashed outside. They barely saw it.

Ian broke the kiss, resting his forehead at the crook of Mickey’s neck. His breath was hot against Mickey’s skin; Mickey’s hips bucked helplessly as Ian picked up the pace. His breathing hitching, Mickey focused on moving in rhythm with Ian. The carpet beneath was rubbing against his skin; above him, Ian’s sweat was mingling with his.

“Don’t stop,” Mickey whispered. He was so close.

Soft kisses were peppered against his skin, in direct contrast to the hard slam of Ian’s hips against his. Mickey could feel the orgasm building up inside him; his grip on Ian tightened convulsively.

“Fuck, Ian…”

Shuddering, Mickey came with a loud groan. Ian’s movements stuttered a little, but he kept moving, whispering softly in Mickey’s ear.

“That’s it, Mick… look so good…  _Ungh_ …”

Mickey felt come spurting between them, and Ian shuddered against him. He held himself above Mickey for a moment, before his arms seemed to give out. With a little sigh, Ian settled himself on top of Mickey.

They lay together for a few minutes while their breathing returned to normal. The first thing Mickey noticed was that he could feel Ian’s heart beating against his chest.

The next was that it was raining.

He wrapped his arms around Ian’s shoulders, content to stay on the floor for as long as Ian wanted. 


End file.
